


A mother's regret

by Owlindenial



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Camila is a bad mom, How Do I Tag, She means well however, This fic is Mom centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27637855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlindenial/pseuds/Owlindenial
Summary: Camila was many things, regretful, an ex-single mother, sad and many other things, but she wasn’t about to ignore what was happening right in front of her. Her daughter was alive.
Relationships: Camila Noceda & Luz Noceda
Comments: 11
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

Camila was many things, regretful, an ex-single mother, sad and many other things, but she wasn’t about to ignore what was happening right in front of her. Her daughter was alive.

Six years ago she sent her daughter off to summer camp only for her to never return. That memory still haunts her. At first everything seemed okay, but when the busses came and she wasn’t there she grew worried. When the camp reported her never arriving her heart broke. When the police investigated the camp and it was indoctrinating children and “praying the gay away” she imagined the worse.

Her daughter had ran away, she thought. She had betrayed her daughter and she ran away. She tried to snuff out her spark and put the whole light out. 

During the first year she was in denial. It hadn’t sunk in. She still bought groceries for two. She still hoped to hear the doorbell one day and to find her daughter there.

The second and third year were bargaining. Suing the camp and anyone related to it. She put her professional life on pause and invested most of what she won in the legal battle on a fund for lost children.

The fourth year was anger. A cold burning anger that drove her to hell and back. She used her medical degree and became a doctor. She drowned herself in walls of books and divided into herself like never before. She messed around a bit, found out some stuff about her sexuality, turned out she was a lot like her daughter. She did more but she still kept her icy glare.

The fifth year was better. It wasn’t quite accepted but it was close. She was single again, unfortunately, but that was ok. A lot of things were ok. And that was ok as well. She had calmed down and relaxed.

By the sixth year she had accepted the reality of it all and even suspected her daughter was dead.

Then the police contacted her. They had received reports of voices on the woods near her old house that could possibly be Luz's. She moved there again.

______________________________________________________________

It was midday on earth and Camilia was sick and tired of the moving truck. It had been a day since she arrived but it still sat parked on the grass of the house’s front yard. There was still some furniture they hadn’t lowered but it was a national holiday and none of the workers were in at the moment. To make matters worse the electric company and waterworks hadn’t connected her house with the neighborhood. She was quite miffed at the day. 

Deciding that a warm fanless husk of former memories was much too depressing for her she went outside. The air was cool, far colder than the tropic air of la Republica Dominicana. She felt oddly nostalgic, remembering her childhood. One of her grandparents owned a finca and she and her brothers would often just mess around among the platanales. She would have had a heart attack if she saw Luz doing any of that. And yet the police were telling her that she was in those woods and that the voice they heard was undoubtedly her daughters. 

Not really thinking, Camilia walks in herself. It wasn’t like the thick almost rainforest climate and forest of her homeland, it was more sparse and didn’t require a machete. She wandered aimlessly until she heard what sounded like a groan of agony. The voice was deeper than she remembered but she recognized it almost in an instant. She bolted towards it as it died out. The air felt heavy and smelled of burnt wood.

She stumbled upon a quaint cabin that shouldn’t be this near to the suburbs. It smelled of burnt but there were no scorch marks or visable fire. The door was broken open and Camila tore it off its hinges as she burst in. She looks around the place. It was a quaint but must have been abandoned for 50 year at least. There was an abundance of antlers in the rotting decoration and it felt off. The pressure in it didn’t make sense. It was as if the air was heavy, filled with double the space that should be there. Then she heard it again. “I keep telling you amity, it should work!” said the voice of her daughter from just in front of her shoulder. 

“Luz” the mother whispered softly.

There was a silence, almost deliberate in it’s length but the voice that came afterwards was too confused and too lost to have any coherent intention behind it. “Mami?” asked the daughter in a tone that painted her bewildered expression. “Mami, esa eres tú? Estás ahí? Ma….” She said hearing nothing in return. The boiling isles were silent but Earth was loud. Camila was screaming.

Her closed hands hit the floor of the house and looked for where her daughter was. She found the source of the burned smell. Under her feet there was a circle burned into the stone foundation. It was warm and had sigils inside and along the edges. It was also moving. Indentations in stone moving and a magic voice that sounded like her witch obsessed daughter. She took a picture and just stood there in silence. Both sides were now silent.

Camila was the first to leave, as she wasn't in her house. She shambled out the door, shambled across the woods, shambled to her house and shambled into her desk. The lights had finally started working and she logged on to her computer. Time to see if she could find anything about those runes. She was determined to get her daughter back. She might not belive in magic but she wasn’t about to ignore what was happening right in front of her.


	2. Help I still have no idea how to write

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing help

The sun was staring through open blinds at a sleeping Camila. Her monitor and laptop were both open holding different documents comparing the same symbols she’d seen last afternoon. The air was still and after the sixth cup of coffee she still had nothing else. No matter the language, the enthusiast nor the history books she visited she couldn’t find anything that matched her pictures. The air sat still before a phone call rang out.

She answered the phone before she woke up. She was ready to mumble some excuse into the phone before the other side spoke up. "Hello mam, this is officer Andres from the local police department. This is a call to remind you that we have a meeting in an hour to discuss certain events and developments in the case of the disappearance of your daughter." Said the voice quick and flat. It took Camila a second for it to register and another one to look at the clock in her monitor. One last incredibly long second before she responded and then she nearly said "Right" and the conversation ended. They talked a bit more, official talk and giving her directions to the hospital but it was just empty words.

As soon as the phone call ended she dived for the shower. She reeked of death and her clothes were sweaty. One awkwardly filmed and deeply uncomfortable scene and a cut later, she was dressed and getting on her car. 

The drive to the police was horrible. Her stomach was doing backflips and she wasn't sure what to say, if anything, about what she saw. After a stop light that took to long and left her alone with her thoughts she finally decided to shut up about it. The last thing she needed was to hear about how she was going mad. She knew what she saw. 

As she pulled up in front of the police station she felt her stomach make more twists, turns and a whole pirouette off the handle. She knew there were two possible outcomes today. They were going to inform her on a lead or they were going to declare her daughter dead. She wasn't ready for the latter, especially after whatever it was that happened yesterday. She walked with a calm and practiced fake confidence into the station and approached the help desk.

After a few minutes if waiting she was escorted in and taken to an office door. Something was deathly off however. The place looked baren, the hallway dirty and the chairs outside looked like they belonged outside the principal's office in some abandoned school. She knocked and the door opened. 

The inside was brown. The cold sterile tiles turning into wood. The wallpaper looked wooden as well. For a second she thought the place was out by candles but no, it was just a candle like light. She could only guess what eccentric got an offi-"Mam, you're spacing out"

The man behind the desk went into some rapid fire talk introducing himself. Her stomach turned at his words. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mam. I am agent Bryan from the NAOMC, a government associated private investigation unit. We would like to ask you some questions about your daughter. We also have audio recordings we would like you to examine." He said finally taking a break.

Camila was overjoyed to know her daughter wasn't being declared dead, but she was still bewildered. Before she could say anything however the man took out a tablet and played a video. It looked like someone recorded a snap. The video was dark, she thought it was a forest but it was too dark to tell. The hoots of owls and other night critters muddled the audio but then a clear sound rang out. Her daughter's voice. "Ugh! Why won't it work? Do I need to do a blood ritual or something?". She said, sounding annoyed and sad. Blood ritual was said so casually that her Camila barely noticed it. 

The agent interrupted her thoughts again. "Was that voice reminiscent of your daughter?" He asked and she nodded an affirmation. Then a similar video played. And another. And a few more. It was apparently an urban legend, even if no one connected it to Luz. Halfway through more voices started joining her daughter. A female one was caring, a male one was curious, another female was wise and guiding, a male one was raspy and mocking and another female one was playful. Yet in every clip she could hear her daughter's voice. In some she seemed lost, desperate and the apparent failure of whatever was happening seemed to cause her anguish. On others (usually the ones that had more voices) she was determined, defiant and sounded better than she ever had while at home. 

She waited for the next clip but the agent didn't give her any. Instead he just handed her the tablet with some questions about Luz. He explained some reasons that she didn't believe and he didn't either. The questions seemed harmless, if a bit weird. One of them even asked if she had any ties to the occult. She handed the tablet back and looked at the desk. She hadn't been excused or anything so she sat there. She took one of his business cards to pass the time when the guy suddenly remembered she was in the room. "Ah! Apologies, you're excused" he said before pressing a button on his desk. The chipmunk of a man was silent as he read her answer, something that seemed unsettling. She was escorted by two guards who seemed just as creeped out as she was.

_______________________________________

Once home she dived back into her research about the symbols. Her visit to the police had confirmed her suspension that something was up. She was going to get to the bottom of it even if it was the death of her. She had exhausted her option with the sigils themselves so she looked into the house where she found them. It was owned by a "Ardor Belos" who had no digital footprints besides the house ownership so that was a dead end. It also didn't seem to be up for sale, so no company to ask about. She was desperate when she remembered the card on her pocket. She brought it out. It was brown, sleek and only had a website with a weird url. She typed it up ***.****.6679.***.host. the web page loaded almost instantaneously. It was simple, almost archaic in it's design and look. Simple white background, plain black text. "NAOMC, national american occult and magic coop." Said the header.


End file.
